


Careless in our Summer Clothes

by lilylouu



Series: Summer of 2010 [1]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, All nighter, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Banter, Bisexual Peter Parker, Bottom Peter Parker/Top Wade Wilson, Boys Being Boys, Boys In Love, Diners, Drunk Sex, First Kiss, Fluff and Smut, Friends Just Hanging Out, Friends to Lovers, Grinding, Inspired by Music, M/M, Music Festival, Neck Kissing, Nostalgia, Ryan Reynolds is Wade Wilson, Sassy MJ, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Smoking, Summer, Wade is 21, late night walks, peter is 20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:53:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25787644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilylouu/pseuds/lilylouu
Summary: "Hey Pete, long time no see!" Wade lets his duffel bag slip off his shoulder and pulls him into a hug. It feels surreal. Peter hugs him back hesitantly but relaxes after taking in his scent. He smells the same as he did in high school.OR Wade shows up at Peter's door in the middle of the night after not seeing him for two years. Peter just hopes they can pick up where they left off.
Relationships: Matt Murdock & Peter Parker, Peter Parker/Johnny Storm, Peter Parker/Mary Jane Watson, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Series: Summer of 2010 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887154
Comments: 4
Kudos: 122





	Careless in our Summer Clothes

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place around 2010 because it was just simpler times back then XD

The night is hot and humid, and the cheap fan in Peter's window is not doing anything to prevent his bedroom from feeling like a sauna. Moonlight shines between the slowly spinning blades and casts dancing shadows onto the wall. It's hardly creating a breeze and he wishes subconsciously that he could afford air conditioning. Despite the uncomfortable mugginess, he puts all his focus on the task at hand. Sweat drips down his forehead as he stares down at the glowing laptop screen and taps away at the keyboard, trying desperately to finish a story for thedailybugle.com. The deadline is tomorrow morning along with the photos he took at Manhattan’s annual parade. He would've gotten the report done sooner, but the whole of last week was spent studying and writing exams. He gives a long exhale. At least it's summer now and he doesn't have to worry about college courses for a while.

The heat is finally getting to him, so he takes a moment to pull off his T-shirt, but takes no time for a break. He has to finish this.

Forty-five minutes later he decides that he's done the best he can do and sends the report off to MJ, his co-worker and friend of six years, for editing. He leans back in his chair and looks at the time. It's only midnight. "Not bad," he says to himself. In school, his assignments are finished two hours later than that.

Peter sneaks down the hallway past Matt's room, careful not to wake him. He avoids the one creaky floorboard and makes his way to the kitchen where he opens up a window and sticks his head out for some fresh air. He was hoping for a cool breeze, but gets a face full of exhaust instead. He suspects it came from the car that is now turning the corner with a screech and is blaring music out it's open windows. It disappears from sight, the bass drowning out as it speeds away down the block. He hopes Matt has his window closed. 

Matt, his roommate and best friend, has been blind for more than ten years. When he lost his sight in a chemical accident at the age of nine, Peter was the only friend of his who stuck around. No matter how many years pass, Matt still manages to surprise him. He keeps up in school, makes his way around town without needing directions, and, contrary to what people might expect, it doesn't hurt his chances at finding a date. Peter isn't jealous. Not in the slightest.

Even at the age of twenty, Peter's never had a real relationship. He had this thing with MJ, but not because they liked each other. It was more of a let's-take-each-other's-virginity-because-we're-in-college-now-and-we-want-to-get-it-over-with sort of thing. She's the only person he's been intimate with. Unless he can count that sloppy make-out session with Johnny a few months ago. Peter only considers him a friend, but was happy to serve as a rebound if it meant Johnny could forget about his ex for a night. They laughed about it the morning after.

Peter pulls a glass out of the cupboard. As he's filling it under the kitchen tap, he hears a knock at the door. It isn't so unusual at this hour. Matt's friend Foggy often stops by at random times. They major in political science together.

He hurries to turn the tap off and set his glass down, and doesn't think twice about answering the door. "Wade?"

"Hey Pete, long time no see!" Wade lets his duffel bag slip off his shoulder and pulls him into a hug. It feels surreal. Peter hugs him back hesitantly but relaxes after taking in his scent. He smells the same as he did in high school.

Wade finally lets him go but holds onto his shoulders to get a good look at him. “Holy fuck. No glasses? And you’ve been working out too, haven’t you? What else have you gotten up to while I’ve been gone?"

Peter remembers he has no shirt on and blushes, becoming even hotter than he was before. "What are you, uh...doing here?" he stutters. Wade slides his hands down to his biceps and gives them a squeeze. He lets go, still clearly shocked at his appearance. Peter was always the nerdy friend in high school. After he graduated, he started wearing contacts when Johnny dragged him along to a boxing class. He’s stuck with it ever since. 

"Long story short, I got kicked out of special forces!” says Wade like that’s somehow a good thing. Peter just stares at him, at a loss of what to say. “You gonna let me in, or what?” Wade grabs his duffel and Peter steps aside. “You mind if I stay here tonight?” he asks, stepping into the middle of the living room. 

“No. Not at all.” Peter takes in Wade's appearance. He's wearing a grey hoodie that's unzipped and the familiar Bea Arthur tank top he'd bought at a thrift shop a few years ago. He's also wearing dark blue jeans paired with combat boots. He looks significantly broader from the last time he saw him, most likely the outcome of intense military training. He also has a crew cut and it's visible he hasn't shaved for at least a week or two. His eyes are brighter and kinder than ever. Peter could look into them forever if given the chance.

Peter met Wade at the start of his junior year and learned that he'd been held back a year. They quickly became friends and he introduced him to Matt, and the three of them became almost inseparable. Wade, who had always been a bit of a social butterfly, brought them out of their sheltered lifestyle and the rest of high school turned out to be the best years of Peter's life. But when the time came for them to pursue a career, Wade joined special forces. Peter wasn't too happy about it. It was like he had grown attached to Wade without even realizing it. Wade had already left by the time he could admit to himself that he was in love with the guy. He suppressed these feelings over the years, not telling anyone about it. Not even Matt.

Looking at Wade now, his tall, welcoming form, Peter is still in love. Maybe that’s why he’s never had a lasting relationship. He just can’t let go of his feelings for him.

Wade had always flirted with Peter. At first, he didn't let it faze him, but over the years he became more and more fond of it. He was never sure if Wade actually liked him though. He figured flirting is just part of his personality. He'll flirt with anyone. After a while Peter couldn't help but notice that Wade treated him differently than their other friends. He was more genuine. 

"So, when did you get in town?" asks Peter.

"Just now. Came here straight from the airport," says Wade, sitting back on the couch. Peter hums in reply, a smile twisting onto his face. "What?" he asks after seeing the look on Peter's face.

"Nothing," he shrugs.

Wade smiles his classic smile and says, "You can say it. I know you missed me Pete. There's no shame in admitting it."

Peter grins and shakes his head. They look at each other for a moment but Wade breaks the gaze, looking past him. "Hey Matt! How's it goin'?" Peter turns around. Matt is standing in the doorway looking like he just crawled out of a cave he'd been living in for ten years.

"What the hell, Wade. You never told us you were coming!"

"Sorry, we must've woken you up," says Peter.

"Doesn't matter. Wade is here!" 

Wade gets up to give Matt a quick hug. "What's new? You seeing anyone?" 

"Oh, well I—" Matt starts to say but is cut off.

"—Ha! Just kidding. You can't _see_. Unless you regained your sight while I was gone." An excited look forms on Wade's face. "Oh please tell me you did! Then you could see my gun collection!"

Matt chuckles. "Still crackin' those bad jokes, huh? You haven't changed a bit. Welcome home, man," he says, giving Wade a friendly slap on the shoulder. "We'll catch up later," he tells him as he heads back to his room.

"Goodnight, my little Bedtime Bear!" teases Wade.

"Remember to keep it down, guys," Matt calls back in reply.

"Wanna take a walk?" Peter asks Wade as he pads down the hall to his bedroom. 

"Sure," says Wade, following him. "I missed New York." Wade leans himself on the door frame as Peter changes into jeans and a T-shirt. "I've been in South Africa for a year, and Pete, you're not gonna believe this, but they don't have Mexican food there! Can you believe that shit?"

Peter chuckles and shoves his phone into his pocket, leading Wade back to the living room. Before they leave, Wade takes off his sweater. Peter stands there ogling at his toned biceps. Wade catches him staring and grins. "Ready?"

"Uhuh, yup." Peter avoids eye contact and turns quickly to open the door.

The heat outside is almost no better than in. It's less stuffy, but that's about it. They walk down the sidewalk. The streets are quieter than usual, but they pass a few people every now and again. Wade is rambling on about General Summers, the "grumpy asshole" who made the decision to kick him out. 

"So he says I'm being discharged because I'm 'disobedient.' I'm not a fucking dog! They can't control every little aspect of my life."

"That's what the military does, Wade. And you kind of sound like a teenage girl who's mad that her curfew changed."

Wade laughs. "At least I got training. Who knows where that could take me."

After a moment Peter asks, "So... you've killed people?"

"Yeah," he admits. "But it was for a good cause, if that makes you feel any better."

Peter shrugs. "I'm just glad you're not dead."

"So you really do care about me! C'mere." Wade grabs Peter, putting him into a headlock and ruffling up his hair. Peter squirms out of his grip and pushes him away, laughing. 

"C'mon, dickwad," says Peter, walking to the front doors of a 7-eleven. The store is glowing brightly in contrast to the dark night. He pulls open the door and Wade grabs it, holding it open for him. Peter gives a small smile to the one lady working the till. She scowls back, not even making an effort to greet her customers.

"Do they have those koala cookies still?" Wade skips over to the aisle with all the Japanese candies. "Fuck yeah, they do! Look Petey, they still have 'em!"

Peter ambles over and Wade holds the box in his face. "Sweet. I haven't had those since senior year. Get a few of them."

Wade takes about five boxes as well as a Cup O'Noodles and a bag of Takis. Peter grabs a bottle of Coke from the cooler and they head over to the till. Wade drops everything down on the counter and Peter notices he had collected a few more things along the way. A container of one-bite brownies and a banana. Peter looks up at him suspiciously. "What? Do you actually expect me to think there's food at your place?" he says shamelessly. 

"Guess you're right." Peter fishes around in his pocket for cash. 

"I got it." Wade pulls out his wallet and slaps down a few bills. "Pack of Lucky Strikes too." Peter frowns. Wade has been smoking since he was twelve. He wishes he would quit, but knows there's no use in nagging him about it. 

The cashier doesn't ask for ID. She rings everything up, a grimace on her face as she does it. "Graveyard shifts, amirite?" Wade tries to sympathize with her.

Her facial expression doesn't change as she says, "uhuh," and passes him their bag full of junk food.

"Thanks for paying. I've been running short on cash lately," says Peter once they've stepped outside.

"No biggie," replies Wade, lighting a cigarette. He takes a long drag and exhales. Peter finds himself admiring his bone structure as he does so. "God, I missed these. All they had at my base were menthols."

When they get back to his place, Wade flops onto the couch and takes off his combat boots. Peter sits down in a swivel chair and switches on the TV. "Cool. Star Wars marathon." He steps over Wade and lets himself fall onto the couch.

They end up eating almost everything they bought and stay up until the sun starts to stream in through the curtains. 

"WHEEE! FLYING KOALA!" squeals Wade, trying to toss a Koala cookie into Peter's mouth. It was a terrible throw, and Peter is laughing so hard that there's tears in his eyes. 

"You guys havin' a good time?" Matt appears in the kitchen. 

"Matt! You just missed The Empire Strikes Back!" says Wade way too enthusiastically. 

"Jesus," Matt mutters, starting the coffee maker.

"Shit, what time is it?" Peter starts to grab up all the wrappers they'd left laying around.

"Six A.M," says Matt, leaning on the counter. 

"Sorry, we must've kept you up." Peter walks to the kitchen and tosses everything in the trash.

"'S fine. At least you jerks get to visit. How long you in town, Wade?"

"Not sure."

"He got kicked out of the military," says Peter matter-of-factly.

"Let's call it dishonorably discharged," Wade defends. "Just a nicer way of putting it, dontchya think?"

Matt pours a cup of coffee, giving an amused grin. "Yeah, that makes it so much better," he says sarcastically. 

Peter downs a glass of water. "I'm goin' to bed for a couple hours," he announces, heading off down the hall.

"Nighty night, Petey Pie!"

* * *

Peter jerks awake when he hears his alarm blaring from underneath the pillows. He fumbles around, trying to find the source of it. Finally pulling out his phone, he turns it off and rolls onto his back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Fuck," he breathes out. He remembers the events of last night. It all seems even stranger now. He checks the time, sitting up hunched over and running a hand through his hair. It's twelve P.M and he has to get up now or his sleep schedule will be fucked. He thinks a cold shower will wake him up so he leaves his room, stretching and yawning as he walks towards the bathroom. He glances down the hallway and spots Wade who is sprawled out on the couch and fast asleep. He hears Monty Python playing quietly on the TV and grins as he turns on the water.

After his shower he's feeling a bit better. He quickly dresses, throwing on jeans and a grey, loose fitting tank that says, 'Empire State University' on it. He goes to the kitchen, pouring himself a cold cup of coffee. He places it in the microwave and puts it on for one minute. He watches Wade sleep, knowing it must be creepy, but he can't help it. The guy is beautiful even when he's drooling. Peter sees a scar on his left shoulder, something he hasn't noticed before. It looks like someone had slashed him with a knife. Peter then admires the Hello Kitty tattoo that Wade had gotten when they were drunk one night in the summer before their senior year. Of all things he could've chosen, Peter got a tiny Where's Waldo on his ass. He's not proud of it. Wade often took great pleasure in asking him, "Where's Waldo?" and Peter would proceed to jab him in the gut. 

The microwave beeps loudly, and Wade nearly falls off the couch. "Sorry," Peter smirks, grabbing his coffee. "You want a cup?"

"God, yes," Wade stretches out on the couch, knocking off his blanket and pillow in the process. Peter hears the "funniest joke in the world" scene playing and Wade just sits there, grinning at the screen as a mother and son _literally_ _die_ from laughter. Peter brings Wade a cup of coffee after heating it in the microwave and sits down next to him. He takes a sip immediately and says "Ow, hot," but continues to sip it.

Peter watches him. "Weirdo."

"You said it, baby boy." Wade puts his mug down and leans back. 

Peter can't help but fall _more_ in love with this man. It's taking a lot of effort for him not to just reach out and _touch_ him. Fuck. He can't be thinking this right next to him! He sets his mug down abruptly and heads to his room, mumbling, "Have to check my emails."

Half an hour later Wade appears at his door and gives a little knock. He's still shirtless. The army has done him good. Peter swallows. "What's up?" 

"Where's Matt?" Wade crosses his arms and Peter watches his muscles flex as he does so.

"Internship," he replies.

"Wanna grab a bite? There's a diner somewhere around here, isn't there?"

"Yeah. Down the block."

After Wade digs through his bag to find a shirt, they walk down three flights of steps and Wade lights a cigarette at the bottom. It only takes them a few minutes to get to Patty's Diner and they take a seat in a booth beside the window. It's between lunch and dinner, so the place is pretty quiet. The waitress comes over to take their order, who looks to be no older than eighteen. She chews bubblegum obnoxiously, talking in a New Jerseyan accent. "Welcome to Patty's Diner. What can I getchya?" she says like she's said it a thousand times.

"Pancakes with extra whipped cream and extra sprinkles please."

Miss bubblegum frowns. "What are you, twelve?" 

"Do I look it, honey?" says Wade, giving a lewd grin.

"No but you sound it," she replies snarkily, blowing a bubble.

"I'll get the hash browns with toast," interrupts Peter, trying to stop things from escalating.

Her bubble pops as she looks to Peter. "Fine. Any drinks?"

"Just water," he smiles.

"What he said, sugar," jeers Wade. 

"For fucks sake," she mutters, stalking away.

Peter raises an eyebrow at him and Wade just grins his biggest grin. 

They eat, discussing Peter's college classes and how one time, he accidentally took LSD, thinking it was gum at one of the many (stupid, in his opinion) college parties he'd been to. "Shit. We have to do that together some time. Then all we'll need is a red convertible, and the two of us, we'll be unstoppable."

Peter laughs at the Fear and Loathing reference. "I wouldn't mind a visit to Las Vegas."

Wade proceeds to quote Gonzo. "As your attorney, I advise you to... snort this coke!" He does a pretty good impression. 

After Wade pays, leaving a generous tip for Miss Bubblegum, he winks at her as they head out the door. She looks up, rolling her eyes as she tops off someone's coffee. "I think she likes you," comments Peter once they're outside and walking back towards the apartment. 

"She was probably just liking the attention," Wade replies, slapping the button for the crosswalk. Peter shakes his head and feels his phone buzz. He takes it out, looking down at the screen as they walk across the street.

_Johnny: Still coming with us tonight?_

_Peter: Yeah. MJ is coming?_

_Johnny: Yup!_

Peter looks up when a car honks at them, probably because they're walking too slow. Wade flips them off and they keep going at the same pace. 

When they get back Wade goes straight to the kitchen to find the leftover brownies. "Hey, you workin' this summer?" he asks, flopping onto the couch. 

"Yup. Daily Bugle."

"I knew those photography classes would come in handy!"

"Yeah. Been writing some stories too."

"Can I see?"

They end up in his bedroom. It's incredibly hot in there, but Wade doesn't seem to care much. Peter digs his portfolio out of a desk drawer and hands it to him. It's a thin blue binder full of laminated photos. There's a couple of his reports in there, but only his best ones. Peter sits cross legged on his bed, leaning back against the wall. He watches Wade as he flips through each photo of his that had been published on The Daily Bugle website. "These are amazing, Pete," he says, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Peter scoots up beside him. 

"They're... average at best," says Peter.

"Modest doesn't suit you, y'know." counters Wade. "You've got the creativity and the smarts. The only thing I'm good at is delivering a good punch."

"I can do that too," says Peter, not helping his case.

"Oh yeah. You're Mr. Tough guy now. I guess I'm not as special as I thought."

"Trust me Wade, you're special."

"Thanks Petey," Wade replies, completely ignoring his sarcasm. He goes back to flipping through the photos while Peter lays back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

"Are you gonna leave again?" he finds himself saying. He can't help but wonder if Wade is going to run off again, leaving him in the same emotional turmoil he fell into last time.

"What do you mean?" Wade abandons the photos and sets them down on the bed beside him. Peter doesn't answer so Wade leans back as well, facing him on his side.

"That day when you went off, two years ago, I thought I'd seen you for the last time."

Wade's expression completely changes, his smile fading and eyes growing wider. "I didn't think anyone would care if I left. Nobody ever has." What Wade says is true; his mom died when he was young and his dad was abusive. He grew up in foster care, getting tossed around from home to home, never finding anywhere permanent. Wade had told him this not long after they met, but never said anything about his past again unless it was in a self-deprecating manner.

"I did," admits Peter quietly. Wade doesn't say anything, only stares. Peter can't bring himself to look away from the ceiling. He continues, "You always said you'd join the military. I never thought you actually would." 

"Y'know what? Right now..." Wade pauses, then says, "...I wish I didn't."

Peter turns to his side and finally looks at him. His face says it all. He notices Wade's eyes dart to his lips and back up again. 

They both startle when there's a loud banging on his bedroom door. "Hey Pete, get out here!" shouts Johnny. Peter scrambles to get up and open the door, leaving Wade to stuff his face in a pillow.

"Hey. What's going on?"

"We got drinks. C'mon we're gonna pre-game before we go to the music fest — oh hey Wade!"

"Hey Johnny."

"Haven't seen you since that time a stripper kneed you in the balls!"

Peter cringes at the memory. The night after their graduation, Wade was trying to get them into a strip club. He tried to bribe one of the girls that was standing outside for a break to get them in. When she said no, Wade, with his overly charming words, asked if she wanted to get gang banged by a bunch of under-aged boys. Wade, of course, was joking, but she didn't find it very funny. 

"Oh yeah. That was a pretty good night until someone called the police on us."

"I don't blame them for doing it. We were pretty damn stupid."

Peter can hear a few more voices coming from the living room. Johnny slips into the bathroom and Peter steps out to look down the hall. He sees MJ, Foggy, and Matt. MJ spots him and smiles. "Hey Pete. Did you just wake up?" she says as he walks toward her. Her eyes widen when Wade pops out of the bedroom. "And Wade? Hey!" 

"Wade! What's up, buddy? You're back!" Foggy says excitedly.

Wade gives him a high five and a side hug. "Yup. Back for good," he says with a charming smile. Making sure the rest of them aren't looking, MJ mouths to Peter 'Yummy,' and he passes her, bumping her on the shoulder along the way. He grabs up a case of beer and takes it to the counter to help Johnny load everything into the fridge. MJ had always sensed something going on between Peter and Wade in high school, but Peter always shut her down. She grabs Peter by the wrist and leads him down the hallway. 

"Tell me everything," she demands.

"Nothing's happened, okay? Don't make this awkward for me."

She squints at him.

"Please, MJ."

"Fine," she says.

"You'll be the first one to know if anything does. Hell, you'll probably know before I do."

She looks satisfied so she lets go of his wrist and struts back to the living room. Peter sighs and follows her, grabbing a beer from the kitchen counter and popping it open along the way. Wade eyes him when he returns and Peter takes a sip, looking at him with raised eyebrows. Wade tears his gaze away, going to grab a beer for himself. He comes back, shotgunning it.

A few hours later, they've all had a few beers and shots when they leave the apartment, walking towards the festival. The sun is pretty much gone, casting the sky in a reddish orange. Peter and Wade walk a few steps behind the others. "Who's playing at this festival anyway?" Wade asks him.

"Not sure. A bunch of indie rock bands, I'm guessing."

They head straight to the bar when they get there. The place is packed, filled with rowdy college students and hipsters. As they're waiting to order drinks, Matt gets pulled aside by a girl. Peter doesn't notice this until Wade nudges him on the shoulder and points. Peter just grins. He recognizes the girl from school. She's been pining for weeks. Her hands are all over him, holding her drink up to give him a sip of her fancy cocktail. "He's totally getting some tonight," comments Wade. 

"Yeah. No doubt." 

By the time the second band comes on, Peter has got a good buzz going on. He can tell Wade does too, because he ends up getting dragged into the mosh pit. Wade starts jumping around and Peter stands there watching him for a moment, getting bumped and pushed around. He feels like things are going in slow motion. He must be more intoxicated than he thought, because the next thing he knows, Wade is grinding against him, and he's grinding back. He pays no attention to the sea of people around them, only the pressure on his groin and the mouth on his neck. Someone trips behind Peter and he pulls back from Wade, looking down at a blonde girl who is sprawled out on the ground. Peter offers a hand and pulls her to her feet. She blushes and Peter smiles at her. He looks back to Wade who had been staring at them the whole time. Wade leans closer and says "Wanna get another drink?"

"Uhuh," is all Peter can say before he's being pulled through the crowd and led back to the bar. They're both knocking back a shot when MJ, Foggy, and Johnny find them. Johnny sneaks up behind him and grabs onto the back of Wade's shoulders, reaching an arm around and giving him a pat on the chest. 

"We found you!" Johnny says excitedly. 

"You were lookin' for us?" asks Peter, taking a seat on a bar stool that had just become empty.

"Matt left us. Went home with some girl," says MJ.

"Not to our place, I hope."

"Nah, she invited him to hers," Foggy says as he's motioning to the bartender for a drink.

"Whatta guy," says Wade, trying to pry Johnny off of him. 

"Mary-Jane? Hey, get over here!" A voice comes from behind Peter. He doesn't recognize it but when he turns around he sees the girl that he had helped up.

"Hey Gwen!" 

Gwen spots Peter and her face flushes. "Catch you later, boys." MJ walks past Peter closely, taking a moment to whisper, "Nice hickey," in his ear. Peter's eyes widen and he rubs his neck, hoping nobody else heard her. It doesn't seem like anyone did.

Two hours later, the four of them are standing on the sidewalk outside of the festival, waiting for a taxi. Wade is sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette. He takes quick drags, listening to the rest of them speak. 

"Who was that Gwen girl?" asks Foggy.

"I think MJ knows her from school. In the same sorority or somethin'. Hey, can I get one of those?" Johnny asks Wade. Wade hums in reply and holds the pack out. Johnny takes one and puts it in his mouth and Wade whips out his lighter and lights it for him.

"MJ's in a sorority?" asks Foggy. Johnny nods and takes a long drag. 

A few minutes later the taxi pulls up and they all clamber in. Foggy tells him Peter's address and he nods, pulling away into traffic.

Johnny, Wade and Peter are all stuffed into the back. Foggy sits in the front, clearly pleased with the seating arrangements. Peter's head droops downward, feeling the heavy effects of alcohol coursing through his head. He looks at Wade's lap, and somehow, fights back the urge to run a hand up his thigh.

"Sorry bub, but you can't smoke in here," the cab driver says to Johnny. Peter lifts his head to see a large, burly man. From what he can see, the man looks weathered, permanent frown lines marking his face. 

"Shit sorry — "

"—Logan? What the fuck, man! Why are you driving a cab?" 

The cab driver stiffens, looking in the rear view mirror. "What the fuck are you doin' in town, Wade?"

"Doesn't matter! All that matters is you're a... a _cab driver_!" Wade bursts out in laughter, like it's the most hysterical thing he's ever heard.

"He got kicked out of the military," says Foggy, shutting Wade up. The cab driver, Logan, grunts. Peter can see a small smile forming on his face.

"Look who's talkin' now."

"How do you know each other?" asks Peter.

"Construction job when I was in high school. We were the best of friends. Right, bub?" says Wade mockingly. Logan shakes his head in annoyance.

After a few minutes of the boys all teasing Wade, Logan screeches the car to a halt and says "We're here. Get out."

"Alright, alright," Wade says, trying to sound innocent.

Peter and Wade slip out of the cab. "You guys comin'?" Wade asks Foggy and Johnny. Peter trips drunkenly on the curb and he feels a warm hand wrap around his waist and another one grabbing his arm to pull him up. "Okay, up we go and... there." 

"'M fine," Peter tries to tell him. He feels dizzy, clinging onto Wade's arm.

"Nah. Gotta work in the morning. I should just go home," he hears Foggy say. 

"Same," says Johnny.

"'Twas a fun night boys, very fun indeed," says Foggy with mock politeness. 

"Okay. See ya later. Don't have too much fun without me, Logan." Wade shuts the door. The cab leaves him and Wade standing outside his apartment under a dim streetlamp. "You good to walk?" 

"Mhm," Peter manages to say. Wade holds onto the back of his shoulders and guides him into the building. After struggling to get up three flights of stairs, they burst through the door of his apartment and Peter basically soars onto the couch. He can feel his cheeks are flushed red from the combination of laughing, intoxication, and the heat. Wade sits beside him and they both lean back, trying to catch their breath.

"That was fun." 

"Which part?"

"All of it." 

Wade looks at him nervously. He reaches over to push Peter's hair back and swipes his thumb over the hickey he left earlier that night. "Do it again sometime?" 

Peter nods, staring into beautiful chocolate eyes. His heart skips a beat when Wade leans in, kissing him tenderly. Peter doesn't take long to respond. He presses back, grabbing onto Wade as he hears a sharp inhale. His lips are soft and his skin smells so good and now that Peter finally has a taste of him, he wants _more._

Wade pulls him onto his lap and Peter grinds down, causing him to groan and squeeze his ass. Peter grasps the base of Wade's skull with one hand, bracing himself with the other on the wall. The friction between them feels amazing, and all Peter can do is melt into it, taking in the sweet smell of Lucky Strike and tequila in his breath. It's like time is non-existent; it's just them in that moment and nothing else in the world matters. 

Wade pulls back a bit _._ "I really want to fuck you," he breathes. The words make Peter squirm. He's been waiting for _years_ to hear this.

"Yeah," is all Peter manages to say before Wade grabs his face again and kisses him, hot and wet. They both work to get Wade's shirt off and it's thrown onto the floor, forgotten. Wade's hand travels down to his waist, where it stops to play with the waistband of his jeans. He quickly undoes the button and slips his hand underneath his boxers to grab onto his incredibly hard erection. Peter gasps, and Wade takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into his open mouth. "Fuck," he breathes. _Where did he learn that?_

Wade pushes him off and lays him back, kissing down his neck, then pulling his shirt up to kiss down his bare chest and all the way to his hip bone. Peter lifts his hips up to pull his jeans down halfway, and then leaves it to Wade, who tugs them the rest of the way off. He's level with Peter again, licking into his mouth as his broad form hovers above him. He nudges his legs apart and rolls his hips against Peter's groin, and suddenly he can feel Wade's cock against his own. It feels infinitely better without the thick fabric of his jeans. "Let's..." Peter stifles a moan, "...move to my room."

Wade hops up and sets off down the hallway. Peter follows him, making a stop along the way to take off his own shirt and grab a bottle of lube from one of the bathroom drawers. As Wade opens the the door to his bedroom, Peter grabs his wrist and shoves the bottle into his hand. 

"Been busy, have you?" he says between kisses.

"I haven't used it," Peter defends, "MJ gave it to me as a joke. I thought, might as well keep it, y'know?" Part of this is a lie. He has used it... just, not with someone else.

Wade hums in reply and strips out of his pants as Peter flops onto the unmade bed. Wade's on top of him almost immediately and begins to pull off Peter's boxers. He kneels between his legs and begins coating a few fingers in lube. Peter stares at the incredibly toned body before him, illuminated by the moonlight. He feels weak at the anticipation, but find that he doesn't have to wait long. Wade goes straight to working him open. Peter grasps the bed sheets, not expecting him to lick a stripe up his cock. He screws his eyes shut, gasping and panting at the double stimulation. After a minute, he taps Wade on the shoulder, begging him to stop because he won't last long if he's going to keep doing that.

Wade chuckles. "You're fucking adorable, you know that?" 

"Shut up," he blushes, "c'mere."

Wade comes up to suck at his neck. He rolls off of him and onto his back and Peter can hardly see what's happening because the room is so dark but Wade is back on top of him in a heartbeat. His boxers are gone, and he's positioning himself between Peter's legs, and suddenly, he's pressing into him. He rocks his hips slowly and Peter groans, half in pain and half in pleasure. The intimacy is overwhelming at first. It's foreign, but the person he's doing it with is so familiar. Wade stays at the same pace for a minute, letting Peter adjust, but begins to pound into him, not able to control himself.

They give broken kisses, and Peter is squeezing Wade's biceps so hard because he's starting to hit all the right places in such quick succession. Wade doesn't seem to notice or care. He probably likes it, Peter starts to think.

Wade ducks his head and kisses him along the shoulder. Peter hears him start to groan, realizing he's getting close. "Pete, Peter..." Wade breathes, "...You feel so good, taste so sweet," he says between grunts, starting to lose his rhythm. He jerks into him harder than before and then his voice breaks and he's coming deep inside him. He continues with a slow pace, reaching down between them to pump at Peter's cock a few times. He moans loudly, the intense pleasure washing over him. He pants into Wade's mouth, wrapping his legs around his waist so he doesn't pull out. Wade growls deep in his chest, overstimulated, kissing and biting at Peter's neck.

Peter eventually legs go and Wade rolls off of him and onto his back. He looks at him as he stares up at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath. "Yeah," he pants, "We did that."

Peter turns to his side and wraps his arm around Wade's waist, snuggling into him. The room is far too hot, but both are too tired to care. He rests his hand on Wade's chest, feeling the rise and fall of it as he drifts off to sleep. 

* * *

The sunlight shining through the window wakes Peter, but he doesn't open his eyes. He has a throbbing headache and dry mouth, both symptoms of a hangover. After coming to these senses, memories from last night come flooding back to him. He becomes hyper aware of the warm body in his bed and when he opens his eyes, he's greeted with a full view of Wade's chest. He looks up at his face, studying it. He's never really seen Wade so peacefully asleep like this before. 

In desperate need of a shower, Peter sits up and swings his legs off the edge of the bed. Once he's slipped on his boxers he feels Wade stirring around in the sheets. "Hey," he grunts, mid-stretch.

Peter turns to look at him and grins. "Good sleep?"

"Mhm."

"I'm goin' to shower," says Peter, feeling shy.

"'Kay." Wade rolls over, his back to him, and pulls the sheets up.

When Peter shuts the water off, he hears muffled voices and laughter. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he steps out into the hallway, finding MJ, Matt and Wade hanging out in the living room. "Morning tiger," MJ smirks. 

"Hey, gimme a sec," he says, heading to his room to throw on some clothes. He comes back out and joins them. Matt looks like he's had quite the night judging by his ruffled hair, (which is pretty much always combed otherwise) and tired eyes. MJ looks as nice as ever, but Peter really isn't liking that smug grin on her face. Wade is... just wearing boxers and _fuck_ this is going to be awkward. "What're you doing here?" Peter feigns a smile. 

"Just gave Matt a ride home. Thought I'd come up for a little visit."

"Oh, how'd it go last night, Matt?" Peter walks to the kitchen to grab a coffee.

Matt gets up and stumbles his way to the kitchen. "Pretty good," he says, grabbing an ice pack out of the freezer and sighing when he places it on his neck.

"Pretty good? It seems to me like you got it better than _pretty good._ She totally rocked your world, didn't she. Best night of your life, amirite?" Wade puts his hand up, but Matt walks past him, obviously not able to see it. Peter gives him the high five instead.

"I forget, were you always this annoying in the morning?"

"Everyone's annoying when you have a hangover."

"Yeah, and it's ten times worse when you're _blind._ "

"How is sex when you're blind? Is it ten times _better_?" counters Wade. Peter thinks it probably is, with your senses being heightened and all.

Matt scoffs. "I'm just going to say yes so I can end this conversation," he says grumpily. He walks out of the room, and Peter gives him a pat on the shoulder as he goes.

"So, you two have fun last night? I hope you used protection," says MJ jeeringly. Peter nearly spits out his coffee. 

"You're gonna be disappointed in us when we tell you..." Wade begins to say, clearly unfazed.

"How did you — " starts Peter, setting his mug down.

"You said it yourself, Pete. I'd know before you do," she says simply.  Wade shoots Peter a suspicious look. Peter is completely nonplussed. MJ rolls her eyes. "Gwen told me she saw you guys getting some friction going before you helped her clumsy ass up. Said you were super cute and she'd totally hit that if you weren't gay."

"Okay MJ, you caught us. Wade fucked me into oblivion. What're you gonna do with that information, tell all your little sorority sisters?"

MJ's mouth drops open. "So you _did_ do it!"

Peter frowns, realizing that MJ tricked him into admitting it. "You're evil."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm a bitch," she says, grabbing her purse from the coffee table. "At least that lube I gave you came in handy." She turns her back and opens the front door, grinning behind her. When she's gone, Wade looks at Peter with a shit eating grin.

"So..." says Peter awkwardly. "I know we were pretty drunk last night and I'm not sure if you were in your right mind when we... y'know, but I totally understand if you're not into me... or whatever," Peter rambles.  


"Are you kidding? I knew what I was doing. I remember every bit of it," says Wade. Peter chews on his lip, looking up at him. "I remember how you tasted..." Wade cups Peter's face and speaks gruffly between kisses. First on the cheek, then on his jaw and down to his neck "...I remember those pretty moans..." Peter grips onto his wrists, his eyes fluttering closed. "...I remember the way you squirmed underneath me as I fucked you into...what did you call it?" he whispers in his ear.

"Oblivion," breathes Peter.

"Oblivion," repeats Wade, breathing in his scent. After giving him a quick peck on the lips, he immediately goes in for a longer one, and Peter whines, melting at the touch. He feels lightheaded as Wade slides his tongue into his mouth. He grasps the fabric of Wade's shirt and slowly exhales, his breath trembling. He begins to feel weak in the knees because Wade is so, so _good_ at this and he still can't believe that this is happening. Wade of course notices his anxiousness and pulls back to look him in the eye. "You okay?" he gives a worried chuckle.

"Yeah. I just _really_ like you." Peter can't help himself from sounding like a middle school-er.

"Mmm," Wade replies, softly pressing his lips to his. "I think we've established that."

Peter can't help but grin into the kiss, because he knows this will be, by far, the best (and hottest) summer yet.


End file.
